


No One's Ever Really Gone

by thewightknight



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Fix-It, M/M, Post-Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-11
Updated: 2020-02-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:33:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22668583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewightknight/pseuds/thewightknight
Summary: Two men who should be dead find new lives.
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 16
Kudos: 122





	No One's Ever Really Gone

**Author's Note:**

> NOTDEAD. NOPE.
> 
> (Something of a companion fic to [That Is How the Force Works](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21893569), although it can be read as a standalone.)

His fingernail broke off at the quick as Ben pulled himself the last few feet out from the pit where Palpatine had thrown him. It was a little thing on top of everything else, but that last little hurt was almost too much. He started to lever himself up over the edge, then froze at the sight before him before ducking down onto the ledge just beneath him. He waited until he heard Rey and Finn leave before rolling up and over. Once he’d made it he lay there, flat on his back. He tried to still his mind, to find the peace he’d felt in Rey when she healed him. It eluded him. Eventually, he sighed and rolled over. He couldn’t make himself stand, not at first, so with another sigh he started to crawl.

It took time to drag his way out to where he’d left his TIE, with his broken leg and cracked ribs and all the other minor injuries he’d sustained, but he made it. The TIE had miraculously escaped the falling debris as Palpatine’s fleet dropped from the sky. Or maybe there was some field around the fallen emperor’s lair that had deflected the falling wrecks.

He took off, threading his way through the lightning that hadn’t abated. The Force guided him through the atmosphere. It and his memory took him back along the path away from Exegol. Once he reached clear space, he programmed in a path to take him far away, and then at last he let unconsciousness take him.

The beeping of his proximity alert woke him. Wiping at his eyes, he tried to focus on the planet beneath him, guiding the TIE to land close, but not too close, to a modest settlement on the largest continent.

###

The troopers that dragged Hux from the bridge didn’t check to see if he was actually dead. Pryde could have ordered them to take his body straight to the incinerator, but once Hux fell, Pryde had dismissed him from his thoughts. So the troopers followed protocol. They dumped him on a slab in the morgue and, when they didn’t find any attendants to check him in, one of them shrugged and they left.

Once their footsteps had died away, Hux levered himself up, groaning at the ache in his chest. He had adjusted the schedule, and the morgue was empty of its standard crew. There was no one to see a dead man come back to life.

The chestpiece he’d worn under his uniform was of his own design, less bulky than blast armor, and it had absorbed the blaster energy, but the impact had still hurt. Stripping off his coat, he undid the buckles and let the armor fall to the floor. He’d stashed several bacta patches in his pocket, and he slapped one over the red mark on his sternum before donning his coat again, scowling at the scorch mark on his chest as he did up the fasteners.

###

The first thing Ben had to do was dump the TIE fighter. He left it in a blind canyon after stripping it of everything useful. He’d get a decent price for some of the components, and First Order blasters were always in demand on the black market. After that, he’d coerce or swindle his way into enough credits to move on.

He didn’t expect to walk away from the first sabaac game he joined with a shuttle. He barely even had to cheat. It was a piece of junk but its hyperdrive worked and that was enough. He had enough credits left over for new clothes, even. His fingers trembled as he slid his arm into the sleeve of the battered leather jacket he’d bought from a secondhand clothes dealer.

###

The morgue was only a deck away from the laundry. It was the work of minutes to discard the coat with the hole in the front with a new one. Settling his new cap on his head, he proceeded with the next part of his plan.

Normally he’d have been logged in at the morgue and his clearances put on hold. He’d made sure that the morgue would be unattended, so this hadn’t happened. His access was still good and a quick check showed the shuttle he’d ordered prepped still waited for him in one of the lower bays.

Word of his demise hadn’t spread past the command deck, and troopers rushed to get out of his way as he passed. The docking bay was empty, as per his orders, and he stopped to pat the top of Millicent’s carrier before beginning to prep the shuttle for takeoff.

It hurt, knowing that his life’s work had been discarded in favor of a madman’s plan, but once Palpatine had made his return known, all the old fossils that had joined the Order after the Rebellion had triumphed over the Empire had jumped at the chance to regain their former status. It had been their incompetence that had led to their fall, but they’d never recognize that.

It didn’t matter how this fell out. Not for him. If the Final Order won, he was a turncoat and a traitor. If the Resistance won, he was the Starkiller, destroyer of worlds. His only option was to lose himself somewhere far, far away.

###

There were places on the Outer Rim where First Order tech fetched a premium price. Hux knew them all, as well as the names of those who dealt with higher end merchandise. He’d stocked his shuttle with several pieces he knew would be in demand.

Hux’s stiffness in his civilian clothes and his accent gave him away as a deserter, but no one batted an eye, not after how the battle had gone. A little bit of black hair dye and a razor to his sideburns provided him enough anonymity to get by. After a bit of haggling, helped along by the hand resting on his blaster, he walked away with a decent amount of credits. It was enough to buy him a different ship. 

He had no destination in mind and selected coordinates at random. Lahsbane was a small planet on the Outer Rim, mostly agriculture. The high pollen count meant there’d be work cleaning or replacing filters, at the least. It had no real mineral wealth or rare plants that drew attention. It was perfect.

As traveled, he tried to recall the softer consonants and lilts of his childhood, that he’d learned from his mother before Brendol had beat them out of him. It would take time, but it would come back to him. 

###

Anonymity wasn’t a problem for Ben. In most images of him that existed during the previous part of his life, he’d been helmeted. Even if he hadn’t been, Kylo Ren was presumed dead, along with the rest of the First Order. 

When he stopped to think about it, he supposed Ben Solo was dead, too. That suited him too. He couldn’t think of anything else to call himself, though, so he stuck with Ben. If someone asked for his full name, he’d shrug. “Just me,” he’d tell them. They didn’t press. If they had, he’d have discouraged it, but one lone human on the outskirts of the known galaxy garnered no interested.

There were two things he knew: machinery and smuggling. A judicious bit of the latter set him up with a better ship and equipment to start his own repair business. He stayed a few months on one planet, then hopped over to another system and settled there for almost a year, but something tugged at him. This wasn’t where he was meant to be. Finally, he packed everything up into his ship again. When he scrolled through coordinates, one set seemed to beckon him. It was a small planet, with nothing remarkable about it he could find, but he’d learned to listen, now that there wasn’t anyone tugging him in different directions. 

Taking off from the planet, he typed in those coordinates, and when the ship made the jump to hyperspace something within him, something that had been tense and closed off all these months, relaxed.

###

“Hey, Dex!” the harbor master called out as Hux idled his speeder through the market. Letting it come to a stop, he waited for the being to catch up to him. “A new ship came in today. Someone looking to set up as competition!”

“Really?” He didn’t have to feign disinterest. This small spaceport kept him well enough, and he’d turned away a few jobs lately, choosing to enjoy some quiet time and private tinkering of his own now that he’d settled. There was room for two repair shops in this town, if both of them reached out to neighborhood settlements for business from time to time. “Where do they hail from?”

The harbor master shrugged. “Manifest says Ione, but who knows.”

Ione was another Outer Rim system, far enough away to make coming here, an unimportant system with no real attractions, something to wonder at.

“Another lost soul, looking for solitude?” he asked, and the harbormaster laughed.

“Still the philosopher, eh? He went on to the cantina, if you want to give him a look see.”

“I might at that.” Raising a hand in thanks, he continued on his way to the scrap yard. 

###

There was nothing about this cantina that distinguished it from any other cantina in any other spaceport Ben had ever visited. There was the surly barkeep, the alien band, a few Twi’lek servers, and scattered throughout, various beings of dubious reputation. Most of them weren’t human. None of them paid Ben any mind as he entered past an initial scrutiny. That was fine by him.

The harbor master had said they already had someone who did repairs or odd jobs, but that if he ventured out a bit he’d probably find some business. That was also fine by him. He didn’t want to live in the spaceport. While not wanting to hermit himself away like his namesake or uncle, he wouldn’t mind some quiet and privacy, away from the bustle of so many minds.

Ordering a cup of the local brew from the barkeep, he found a small table along one wall, and sat, sipping from the cup with only the occasional grimace. The Force had led him here. Now he needed to figure out why.

###

The scrapyard had what he needed, and several other things that he’d probably find a use for in the next few weeks. Settling up, he weighed the remaining credits and decided he could justify a stop at the saloon. Maybe his possible competition would still be there and he could check them out.

Not wanting to be obvious about it, he paid careful non-attention to the crowd in the cantina when he entered. Most of the patrons were passing through, but there were a few locals, and they called out to him as he entered. He acknowledged them with a smile (and didn’t that feel strange still?) and a casual wave as he made his way to the bar.

“Usual?” Rheb asked, and he nodded. It had taken some getting used to, but he’d sour brew the cantina always kept on tap had grown on him. Leaning with one elbow on the bar, he scanned the crowd over the top of the glass. 

It was a few minutes before he noticed the man sitting at the table against the wall, but when he did, he froze for a second. It wasn’t long enough for the patrons next to him to notice, but it drew the attention of the stranger. Except he was no stranger; not to Hux, at least. He instantly recognized that dad of dark, wavy hair, those lush lips, and the eyes he’d lost himself in, in the throes of passion. 

Those eyes locked with his and one corner of Ren’s mouth twitched as he raised his glass in salute. 

###

Ben recognized Hux the instant he entered the bar, even with the black hair and the slouch he’d acquired. There was no mistaking the sense of him. He didn’t stare, not wanting to draw any attention to either Hux or himself, but he was achingly aware of Hux’s presence. He could hear Hux’s voice as he ordered, the familiar crisp accent now softened but still recognizably Hux. He’d heard Hux sound like that before. It had only happened a few times, in all the years they’d known each other, when they lay gasping and spent, still a mess of entangled limbs. And then Hux would collect himself, wrapping himself in layers on top of his clothing before he left, pretending that nothing soft or tender had occurred between them come morning.

He waited until he knew Hux had seen him and caught his eye, raising his glass in a salute. He could feel Hux’s panic, which he should have expected. There was an instant when he thought Hux might bolt, but it passed, as Hux’s shoulders sagged and he broke their gaze. 

Heart in his throat, he watched as Hux crossed the distance between them. When Hux made no move to sit, he kicked the other chair out and nodded at it. A brief exertion of will ensured that no one paid attention to them, a fact that Hux noticed as he took the seat.

“Come to finish what Pryde didn’t?” Hux asked by way of greeting.

“Why? Pryde is dead. It’s all dead and gone. I’m dead too, as far as anyone knows.”

“So what do you go by nowadays?

“Ben. You?”

“Dex.”

“Dex? Really?”

Hux shrugged, meeting his eyes with something of a challenge in them. They stared at each other across the table, not speaking, occasionally taking sips of their drinks, until Ben broke the silence again.

“So I hear you’re doing repairs nowadays.”

“It keeps me fed and a roof over my head.”

After another pause, Ben asked, “So, need a partner?”

Hux stared at him long enough that Ben nearly started fidgeting in his seat. But finally, he spoke.

“No, but I could use an assistant.”

“Really?” Ben asked, incredulous, and was shocked when Hux grinned at him. “You asshole.”

###

It was the subject of gossip between the locals for a few months, how the new fellow moved in with Dex the day he arrived and started helping him out with repairs the next day, but soon enough “Dex” became “Dex and Ben”, and within a year or two, it seemed like they’d always been there together. 

How the two of them bickered reinforced the impression that they’d been together for years. When they got into it, those who witnessed it rolled their eyes and grinned (behind their backs, of course), and waited until they finished before picking up the conversation as if nothing had happened.

Life had never been too hard out here and the new government didn’t make much of a difference to anyone, same as the old hadn’t and the one before it, either. The sun shone, and the stars twinkled and life went on and two men who’d left behind their old lives and bad choices and started anew paid it all little to no attention as they spent the rest of their lives discovering what they could have been. 

And if now and then one of them stared up at the stars and shivered, the other took him in his arms and whispered in his ear, and eventually the ghosts retreated and they were just stars again. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! If you want to say hi, [check out my profile](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewightknight/profile) for where I’m currently hanging out on this here internet thing. If you liked this, please share! Kudos are love and comments are always appreciated.


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